


(Not) Like His Old Man

by Lynx22281



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Daddy!Benny, Dyslexic Dean, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, daddy!dean, use of a politically incorrect term
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynx22281/pseuds/Lynx22281
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Benny get some news about their young son</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Not) Like His Old Man

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from. Some random little muse dropped it off one night.

Dean sat next to Benny in an uncomfortable upholstered chair in the cheerfully decorated office belonging to the elementary school’s guidance counselor.  His knee bounced up and down anxiously as they waited for the woman to make her return from dealing with some minor emergency that sprung up in the minutes before their scheduled meeting was to start.

 

Benny reached over, placing his big hand on Dean’s knee, stilling its nervous motion.  “Easy,” he murmured softly, knowing Dean was dealing with his own past history involving public school just as much as he was trying to deal with their seven-year-old son’s potential future.

 

“I am so sorry about that, Mr. Lafitte, Mr. Winchester,” the guidance counselor apologized as she swept back into the room.  “Fifth grade hormones are starting to run a little high the closer we get to the holiday season.”

 

She gave them both a kind smile as she sat down at the desk behind the nameplate with _Virginia Hough, M.Ed._ engraved in swirly script.

 

“I have news for you,” she continued, taking the Band-Aid approach to the situation.  That was the thing Dean liked most about her from their first meeting a few weeks ago after the getting the troubling results of their kid’s first report card of the year.  She didn’t sugar-coat and she didn’t beat around the bush.  “The results of Henry’s assessment show that he is dyslexic, like we thought.”

 

Dean’s breath caught in his chest and he leaned forward, elbows digging sharply into his thighs.  He felt Benny’s heavy hand soothing down his spine as the tears rolled down his cheeks and made dark circles on his jeans.

 

Mrs. Hough frowned at his reaction.  “The diagnosis doesn’t mean an automatic failure for your son’s future, Mr. Winchester.”

 

He couldn’t help the little derisive snort that passed through his nose.  Failure was exactly what John Winchester had thought about his 11-year-old son whose teacher approached him in the middle school’s parking lot one afternoon with her suspicions as to why Dean was struggling so hard in school. 

 

“ _You callin’ my son a **retard**?_ ” John had sneered disdainfully through the rolled down window before ordering Dean into the car and peeling out of the parking lot, leaving the teacher in the Impala’s dust.  They’d packed up and left that town in the wee hours of the next morning.

 

Benny gave the counselor a wistful smile.  “He ain’t upset about that, ma’am.  You see, Dean’s dyslexic, too, but he was only recently formally diagnosed.”

 

“Oh, I see.”  Her frown remained, but the emotion behind it softened to understanding.

 

The only way Dean had been able to make it as far as he had in school was because he had a nerd for a little brother who would take any excuse to read harder stuff than whatever he was given in class.  Dean had made Sam read his homework assignments out loud to him and proofread his written work, easily convincing the kid that it’d help him get smarter faster.  Dean had limped along until he could take the GED and quit going to school altogether.

 

A few years ago, when Bobby announced his plans to give Dean the shop and retire to somewhere warm, Sam had convinced Dean to take some business classes at the local community college.  Dean had gone to his academic advisor right away to let the guy know that a former teacher suspected he had a learning disability and that he didn’t want to waste his money if there was going to be no way he could pass a college-level class.  The advisor had immediately set up an appointment with the school’s disability services office for him.  Two weeks before classes started Dean was diagnosed, had a two-inch binder full of academic and personal resources for adult students with dyslexia, and was assigned a special tutor to help him with his assignments.

 

He finished his first semester with all Bs and was tickled pink with the result of his hard work.  By the time he walked across the stage with his associate’s degree in business administration, he was making more As than Bs every semester.

 

Dean gruffly cleared his throat as he sat up, wiping at his eyes with the sleeves of his jacket.  His nose tingled painfully as he tried not to start bawling again.  “Yeah, not angry.  I’m just glad we can get Henry all the help he needs so he never has to feel like he isn’t smart.”

 

The smile returned to Mrs. Hough’s face.  “Awesome.  I’ve already notified Henry’s teacher that he’ll join one of her other students with our elementary reading specialist when the class has reading time every day.”  She handed an overstuffed blue folder out to them.  “And, I’ve already put together some materials for you both to look over about how to help Henry at home.  There’s a business card in there for a tutor service that specializes in helping kids with learning disabilities.  They have scholarship programs if money happens to be an issue.”

 

Benny took the folder, thumbing through the contents briefly, before shaking his head.  “Money ain’t a concern for this.”

 

The bell sounded.

 

“Please feel free to email me anytime with any questions you might have.  My job here is to make sure that nobody’s disability is a deterrent to them getting the best education they can get,” she said rising from her chair and coming around to shake their hands.  “Henry is a bright kid.  School won’t be all rainbows and sunshine for him – it’s not for any kid – but he has just as good a shot at making to college and beyond as any of them.”

 

Mrs. Hough ushered them out of her office just in time for a spindly limbed, towheaded 7-year-old to collide with Dean’s legs.

 

“Daddy!” he cried over the din of dozens of his classmates and teachers making their way through the crowded main hall to the car line outside.

 

“Hey, kiddo,” Dean greeted with a smile as he hoisted the kid, who Bobby swore up and down was a 100% clone of younger Dean, up onto his hip.  “Papa and I were thinking about swinging by Sonic for milkshakes on the way home.  Whaddya think?”

 

Henry screwed his face in thought and nodded so hard he almost knocked his head into Dean’s.  “Yeah!  Can I get one with Oreos?”

 

“Sure can, little man,” Benny replied, smiling as he reached out to ruffle their son’s shaggy blond hair.

 

While Henry launched into a spirited re-telling of his day at school and his excitement for the upcoming holiday vacation as he walked outside between his dads, holding both of their hands, Dean and Benny shared a fond look over his head. 

 

The next years wouldn’t be easy as Henry went from elementary to middle to high school and, hopefully, on to college, but at least neither of them would give up on him.

 


End file.
